His deadly games
by TheEagleGirl
Summary: This is a dark Peter Pan from an Alternate Universe. He's the leader of the "Lost Boys" a gang of boys, and they specialize in holding people...for ransom. Only he doesn't want to hold Kelly for ransom. He wants to keep her. Rated M for mature themes and situations (as well as Stockholm Syndrome)
1. Chapter 1

**This is a dark Peter Pan from an Alternate Universe. He's the leader of the "Lost Boys" a gang of boys, and they specialize in holding people...for ransom. Only he doesn't want to hold Kelly for ransom. He wants to keep her.**

* * *

Kelly sniffed, wiping the tears away. Then she walked up on shaky legs to the podium. She felt their eyes on her, but looked down, unable to face their pitying eyes.

"Michael was my best friend." Kelly started, then cleared her throat. There was a lump there.

She tried again. "I loved him. He, his girlfriend Monica, and I...we _are-were-best_ friends. And I will never forget that. Most of you remember Michael from this past year. Lost, without Monica." Kelly blinked, and felt more tears coming. She dipped her head to let her hair cover her face. "We both love-loved her. And her loss was hard for everyone. Especially Michael. So all of you, you're stuck with that memory. The boy that refused to admit that she was gone for good."

Kelly almost looked up, but ended up looking at the coffin. Michael was dressed in his best suit, pale, his face artificially still. His mother had taken his earring out, and he looked softer without it.

"But I w-want you all to think back. B-because," Kelly felt the tears start up again in earnest, "Michael should be remembered for who he was before the tragedy. He was strong. He was kind. He loved chocolate ice cream and would slip Monica snickers when she was in the hospital and the n-nurses wouldn't allow her any. He was the boy that played baseball with little kids in the park, the one who would scream on a roller coaster." Kelly looked up for a moment, then darted her eyes down to Michael again.

"M-michael." She stammered. "I will always remember you-for the good, for the bad, for e-everything. You are the best friend I've ever had. And I know that if you're looking down at yourself, you're yelling at me, shouting, 'Why would you let them dress me up in a suit?'" That got a few laughs.

Kelly walked to the coffin. "You're better now, Michael. All better."

She leaned down and kissed his forehead. The lower half was closed, to keep anyone from seeing his wrists. Kelly didn't want to see. She wanted to remember him the way he was a year ago, laughing, sun glinting off his earring, his teeth white against his dark skin.

She heard a sob, and realized it was hers. It was small. No one else would have heard it. But it terrified her. She hadn't cried this much since Monica died.

Kelly walked stiffly back to her seat, in the same numb state she'd been in all week since learning of Michael's suicide. She sat there as the priest said his last words, and as they all filed out of the church and as her parents tried to get her to leave. She sat as they left, murmuring, and as the men came in to take his casket away.

_Carried like a little doll,_ she thought. Michael would have hated that.

Alone for the first time all week, Kelly stopped crying at last. Her shoulders stopped shaking. She sniffed and wiped away her tears with a tissue.

_They think I'll die next. Monica, from cancer. Michael from suicide. Me from..._

Kelly's thoughts were cut off by a voice.

"Have you stopped crying?"

She instantly stiffened. She didn't know who it was. Not turning, she said, "Please, I need another minute."

The voice chuckled a bit, "I'm not rushing you out. Just wanted to see if you were all right."

Kelly didn't turn until the boy sat next to her. She moved her head slightly.

"Who are you?" She asked quietly. "Did you know Michael?"

"A bit," he answered. He leaned forward and swept her hair away from her face in a swift movement that caught her breath.

"You're still crying." The boy studied her. He was older than her, by about two or three years. Maybe eighteen or nineteen? His face was serious, but his eyes bright.

Kelly stood without warning, and choked out another sob. She ran out of the church, the boy at her heels. Finally, when she was outside, she vomited.

"Oh, boy." He held her hair. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"N-no! Why would you s-say s-something like _that!"_

He looked at her quizzically, "Well, you're crying over your boyfriend."

Kelly glared up at the boy. "_Best friend, _not Boy friend."

He held up his hands, "Sorry." His face was still serious, but his eyes-that twinkle made it look like he was laughing at her.

Kelly sat down on the steps, exhausted. She hadn't slept for days. "I should go home," she muttered, in a dazed shock.

She was shivering. _Shivering._ In the summer.

The boy slipped out of his sweater and handed it to her. "I'm sorry for your loss."

She laughed humorlessly, "Huh. You and everyone else." In a smaller voice, she whispered, "I just want to go away."

He looked up, swiftly, a smile curling on his face. Kelly didn't notice. Her eyes were shut tight. But his smile...

It was dangerous.

Kelly's eyes shot open. "The reception," she squeaked. "I need to go."

She started to take off the sweater. "Keep it," the boy said, hiding his smile, eyes twinkling. "I'll pick it up when you're warmer."

Her eyes started watering. "Thank you..."

He touched her nose lightly. The contact startled her, and made her look up in wonder. "My name's Peter," he said. "Peter Pan."

A hesitant smile curled on her mouth. The first one in a week.

"Thank you, Peter."

Kelly left, walking to her parents, who were waiting in the car, whispering quietly. She looked back at Peter, whose back was turned to her. She didn't see his wicked grin.

He found someone he liked.

* * *

**REVIEWS ARE LOVE!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

Kelly couldn't fathom how she would face the first day of school. So instead of going, she told her mother that she wasn't feeling up to it.

"Kelly..." her mother started, "I'd love for you to stay home, but I have a closing today and I can't stay with you..."

Kelly was on her bed, clutching at Michael's sweater. She looked up through her dark hair at her mother, who was busy checking her phone for updates on the weather. "Mom. I am sixteen years old. I don't need you to stay home with me. Go to work. I'll be fine."

Kelly`s mother hesitated. For a moment it looked like she would disagree. She say next to Kelly.

"You'll be ok?"

Kelly nodded. "I _will_ be fine, Mom. I just need to stay home for a little bit longer."

Kelly's mother looked torn between comforting her daughter and leaving the room. Her fingers just reacher Kelly's shoulder when her phone _pinged._

_"Shit._ They're at the house. I need to go, Kells. See you later, okay?"

Kelly was already staring at the wall, her dark eyes blank.

* * *

Kelly walked through her house, touching her furniture, her walls. They all thought she would be next. She knew. Her mother feared that Kelly would get depressed and try to kill herself, like Michael did. Like Monica's mother did. _But she didn't seem too concerned_, Kelly thought bitterly.

A knock on the door broke Kelly out of her daze. She glanced at the clock. It was too early for her mother to be back from her closing. Only eight o'clock. She walked slowly, as if every step was an effort to float away, up into the stars.

"Who's there?" Kelly asked.

No answer. She looked out the peephole. No one was there.

Tired of waiting for an answer, she swung the door open. The sun hit her face. It was almost blinding. Kelly shielded her eyes with her arm, the paleness of her skin dazzling in the light. It reminded her how little she'd been out this summer, how long she spent talking to Michael in his basement, arguing, him yelling at the world, her begging him to come outside of his house. She'd cried too much over this summer, and not gotten enough sun.

For a moment, Kelly allowed the warmth to bathe her, eyes closed, head tilted up to the sun. A small smile lit one corner of her mouth, and she inhaled deeply. The warm September air kissed her skin through the screen door.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Kelly, unalarmed due to her peaceful moment, opened her eyes slowly. The sun was in her eyes, so she squinted to see the person in front of her.

"Yes." She ducked her head and let her hair cover her face. The stranger's face was taking form through the light.

"You're Peter Pan," she said, a statement.

"The only," he grinned. "How are you, Kelly?"

Kelly, blushingly shy, bit her lip. He stepped closer, backing out the sun, casting a shadow over her.

"I-I'm all right, I guess. You?" It didn't cross Kelly's mind to ask how he knew where she lived. All she knew was that his twinkling eyes were on hers and he was sweeping her hair out of her face again.

"Much better now." She wasn't sure if he was answering her question or telling her she looked better without her hair in her face. For the first time, she noticed how cute he was. Not manly, not yet, but attractive in an ageless way.

"All right..." Kelly's voice trailed off. Then she shook herself out of her daze. "Did you need something?"

Peter's smile started up, the dangerous one she'd missed the day before. Kelly couldn't look away. She knew something was wrong. The street seemed too quiet. How did he know where she lived? How did he-

"Yes, in fact," Peter brightened. "My sweater. I told you I'd pick it up, didn't I?"

"I guess so..." Kelly said, "How did you know where I live?"

She stepped back. The sun was in her eyes again, and she felt something rise in her chest. Panic. She needed to see what was going on.

Peter cocked his head to the side. "Oh. Michael's mother. She told me."

Kelly cleared her throat. There. Nothing wrong. She'd imagined it. That was all.

"All right. Um, will you wait here? I'll go get it."

Peter smiled, "Actually, I need to use the bathroom. May I?"

Kelly felt a growing unease. "Sure. Come on in."

Peter looked too out of place in her sensible house. She was glad when he vanished out of her sight, and she went up the stairs to go find his sweater.

She rummaged around for it. Finally, she noticed that it was on her desk. "Silly me," she muttered. Then she turned to see Peter standing in the doorway.

She was startled, of course. But she didn't yell. She just stood there, frozen, while his sweater dropped from her fingers and hit the ground. She didn't make a noise, just stared at him with those big, dark eyes that reminded him of a deer. She didn't even scream when she saw his grin, dangerous and slightly insane, take over his face.

She didn't talk when he started to make his way towards her, eyes on her eyes. She made no noises, just felt her face grow more and more scared until he touched it.

And then she said, "H-how d-did you know where m-my room is?"

Peter slid his finger from her cheek to her nose and tapped it, "I think I know everything about you, Kelly Jessup."

Her heart thundering, she raised her hand and swiped his away with shaky fingers. "Don't touch me," she said, her voice quiet and she backed up until her back hit the wall.

"Not yet," Peter said, following her like a predator. "But soon."

He pulled out a syringe.

Finally, Kelly opened her mouth to yell.

* * *

**A/N**

**So there's chapter two. Do you guys think I should make Pan dark? Or should I give him some redeeming qualities? I want Kelly to be afraid of him, though.**

**REVIEW, PLEASE!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I really appreciate the feedback! I've decided that Peter will be dark and scary, but he might make it look like he has some redeeming qualities in order to gain Kelly's trust. However, he is overall a scary guy.**

* * *

Kelly felt sore. She tried to move, but her hands didn't budge. So when she opened her eyes, she was expecting the worst.

She wasn't expecting to see a little boy.

He was eleven, at most. His eyes were dark brown, and they matched his hair. Kelly opened her mouth in surprise and almost spoke when he interrupted.

"Felix! She's awake!"

Kelly froze, wishing she'd kept her eyes closed.

"Good job, Henry." A blond boy with a scar crossed into her line of view. He looked mean, she thought. His sneer scared her.

"W-what am I doing here? Who are you?"

Kelly's voice quivered. She swallowed the lump burning up her throat when Felix grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back.

"No talking," he snarled. His breath smelled like soup.

What kind of kidnapper smelled like chicken noodle soup?

Kelly shut her mouth, the one thing she'd always been good at. After all, she'd known that Michael was spiraling deeper and deeper into hell and said nothing. Why not be quiet now?

Felix growled, "So you're the one Pan likes?"

Kelly said nothing. What was going on? Her face grew more scared and Felix grinned.

"Answer me!"

Kelly's eyes pooled with tears and she opened her mouth. Not fast enough.

Felix's slap was so loud even Henry winced.

Kelly whimpered. "What's going on?" she whispered, begging with her eyes for an answer.

Felix slapped her again, "You're not asking the questions. I am. When I ask, you talk. Otherwise, keep your dirty mouth shut, understood?"

Kelly let a strangled cry out and sagged against the bed she was tied to.

Felix rocked back and forth, "Good..." he said. "Now, _Kelly Jessup_, tell me...why did Pan choose you?"

Kelly just stared at him blankly.

"Why. Did. Peter. Pan. Choose. You?" Felix gritted out.

"I don't know."

"Is it because of your father? What does he do?"

Kelly closed her eyes against the bright light, "He's a teacher. Professor."

Felix frowned, "And your mother?"

Kelly's voice dropped with drowsiness, "She's...in r-real estate law..."

Felix hit her again, "You will not fall asleep when I'm talking to you!" Kelly's cheek was turning purple.

Henry was in the corner. Suddenly, he shot forward and grabbed Felix's wrist. Kelly prayed he would tell the boy to stop hitting her. Instead he said, "Her mouth isn't going to be able to move if you keep hitting her face. You should try somewhere else."

Felix grinned darkly.

* * *

After Felix was done asking her the questions, Kelly's hip, thighs and legs were mottled purple and black. She was sobbing. Quietly, as she always did, shoulders shaking and tears running. "Why do you want me?" she asked again.

Felix looked over before he turned out the lights, "I don't. You can rot in hell for all I care, girly."

The room was pitch black. Kelly almost didn't mind, because soon she was swimming in the blackness too...

* * *

Peter looked at her through the screen. She was sleeping now...and Felix opened the door. Without turning, Pan said, "Good work. Too many hits on the face, though."

Felix grinned, "She was annoying me."

Peter turned, and shot him a glare. "You don't get to hurt her face just because she was annoying you." He paused and looked back at the screen. "Beautiful," he whispered.

Felix yawned and stretched, "Well, you're going to swoop in soon and be the savior. I thought you'd want it to look realistic on her."

Peter raised an eyebrow at Felix. Then he brightened, "And how was Henry?" It was the boy's first view of a torture session.

Felix shrugged, "Flinched a bit. But, he didn't throw up. That's good."

Peter nodded, "Good. That's good." Then he grinned. "How long do you think I should give her to sleep?"

Felix seriously considered the question. "Wait for tomorrow. She's going to feel the pain even more."

Peter's face resembled that of a child told he couldn't play with his favorite toy. Because that's what she was now. His toy. His.

Only his.

So he grinned up at Felix again. "I think I'll wake her up now, don't you?"

Felix shrugged, "You're the boss."

Peter stood, "Yes," he said, "I suppose I am."

* * *

Kelly was woken by a shout.

"Felix!"

There were several footsteps, and as Kelly pried her eyes open, light flooded the room, blinding her. She cried out in pain.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?"

There was a scuffle, and Felix grunted.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH HER!"

Kelly recognized the voice, suddenly, and squinted.

Peter Pan.

He was striding towards her, determination on his face, even as he undid the restraints around her wrists. Suddenly overwhelmed and relieved to see a person not trying to hurt her, Kelly threw her arms around him, sobbing into his shirt. Peter felt her stiffen with the realization of who she was touching, and she tried to pull away, but he held her close to him, grinning darkly over her head at Felix, whose face was as indifferent as ever.

When Kelly finally manuevered around in his embrace enough to see his face, it was serious again. Slightly concerned, maybe?

"Please," she croaked, "Let me go."

She struggled against him, and then cried out in pain. Her moving around was cutting into the bruises again, and a fresh wave of pain washed over her.

"Leave," Peter commanded Felix.

"Hush, Kelly," Peter whispered soothingly, as if talking to a child. Which, Kelly supposed, she still was. "I'm not going to let Felix hurt you again."

It wasn't Felix she was worried about anymore. But Kelly said nothing, just clutched at his collar and kept her face buried in his shoulder as he lifted her off the bed and carried her out of the room.

She suddenly realized, as she swayed with his rhythmic steps, what he wanted her to do. He was going to be the gentle one. He was going to protect her, for now, so she would forget her mother, who was never there for her, and her father, who was always buried in a scholarly journal. He wanted to pretend to be good, so she would forget Monica and Michael, whose pain was so great they had to leave this world.

He wanted her to forget them all.

Kelly shivered in his arms. What did he really want from her?

* * *

He was touching her.

Softly, wiping the blood from her lip where she'd bitten it.

Then on her foot, where the restraints had cut into her.

Then on her knee, where blood had dribbled.

Kelly was uncomfortable with anyone touching her. No one had really paid her any attention, never ever, not ever, not so physically, in her whole life. Michael and Monica where always the touchy ones, and once Monica was dead, well...Michael was too far gone to need a comforting hand. And her mother was always vaguely scared of touching Kelly, as if she had cooties. So Kelly had never had someone touch her so softly, even if it was Peter Pan, her kidnapper.

She stared around the room, knowing that logically, she should be planning an exit route. Wasn't that what the heroine did in the movies? Looked around for weapons, biding her time to escape? But there was nothing useful here. It was a nice room, yes, with a four-poster bed that she was seated on, a curtain hanging low over the sides. There was a dresser, and a chair and rug, but nothing else.

She didn't notice when Peter motioned for her to give him her hand. Her dark eyes were hidden again, both by her hair and the bruise forming on her cheek.

"Oh, Kelly," Peter said in a singsong. She turned slowly to him, her eyes blank. "I need your arm."

Kelly wordlessly handed it over, watching him roll up her sleeve to the elbow, slowly, eyes on his task.

"Oh, Kelly," Peter said again, serious. "This won't do."

She felt as if she should apologize, as he started working on her wrist. But why would she apologize to him? He had nothing to do with it.

She watched him clear the blood from her arm where the restraints had dug in. The scars on her left wrist were so light that they nearly blended with her skin. "I'm sorry," she finally said, voice weak. "I only did it once. After Monica died." She had done it with Michael. Then she'd been discovered by her mother, who threatened to call the police if she did it again.

Peter looked up at her, a twinkle in his eyes, "But you'll never do it again." It was a statement. Kelly wanted to rip her arm away, but couldn't.

He wiped away the last of the blood and ran his fingers over the scars. Then, pulling her wrist up to his face, he kissed each of the small scars, one at a time.

Her eyes widened, and Peter looked up into them, his scary grin starting to form, the twinkle back in his eyes.

Kelly couldn't look away.

* * *

**Aannndd, that's chapter three! It was originally shorter, but then I lost it on my computer and had to rewrite it. **

**So, any suggestions for how to make Peter gain Kelly's trust (and fear) in the next chapter?**

**Please review and give feedback!**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

* * *

He didn't visit her for two days.

Kelly knew that it was two days based on the meals she was given. There was no real source of light in her room (or her "prison" as she thought of it) but three times a day, Henry and Felix came around with her food. She'd never thought that she would miss a monster like Peter Pan, but after two days of intense loneliness and nothing to do, she would have welcomed a conversation.

Kelly vaguely wondered if she was going insane.

There was a small bathroom off the room with a tiny bathtub and toilet. She spent two hours in the bath until it was freezing just so she could feel something. Then she shivered for the rest of the day, since the air conditioning was on and she didn't have a towel or a hair dryer.

When the third day came around, Kelly decided that if he didn't come soon and give her some answers, she was going to kill herself.

She was dead serious (quite ironic in her situation).

* * *

Peter watched her as she tossed fitfully on her bed. The canopy bed was mostly covered by a curtain, so she hadn't heard him come in. She wasn't asleep. He knew that. If she were, she was, she wouldn't have sat up and lay down again three times in the past minute.

"Tired?" he asked casually.

Kelly shot up and scrambled away from Peter as fast as possible, hitting the headboard with a loud _thunk!_

"Oh, god," she whispered, clutching her arms to her shoulders.

"No, it's Peter. Close, though," he grinned and walked slowly towards her.

Although she'd been wishing for company, she hadn't expected him to act so callously about her situation. Fear spiked through Kelly.

He sat on her bed, too close for her. His fingers came up to her ankle, and pulled it onto his lap leaving her in a vulnerable position, opened up to him. She struggled for a moment, and then realized that he wasn't going to let go.

Peter watched her slump down in defeat, her dark eyes quieting. He could see her torn between wanting to talk to him and wanting him out of her room.

"You look at a loss for words," Peter continued, running his fingertips up her leg, to her knee, then back down to her ankle, almost like a caress.

Kelly opened her mouth, her voice a whisper, "Where were you? I've been locked up for two days."

Peter waved his hand around, "I have business to deal with," he said nonchalantly, "and I needed to work. I can't visit you every day."

Kelly's eyes were welling up, "When will you let me go?" she asked.

Peter didn't answer the question, his eyes twinkling. "That's up to me."

Kelly felt a tear edge out of her eye, "My parent's aren't rich. They can't pay a ransom."

Peter laughed carelessly, "Oh, I don't care, Kells," he said, using her mother's nickname for her. She winced.

He moved so quickly she didn't even see it, suddenly crouching in front of her. Kelly's eyes were locked on his for a long moment, and she didn't breathe.

Slowly, he reached up, wonderingly, and placed his thumb on her cheek.

Kelly stilled until she realized he was catching her tear. He didn't pull away, just stared at her...

..._and she was sobbing,_ breaking down, clutching his shirt, _curled_ up against him, this _monster_! But Kelly wasn't even thinking, her brain shutting down, the two days of isolation taking its toll.

She wondered when she would run out of tears.

Peter's arms were wrapped around her, and he was pressing his face into her hair, his smug grin hidden from her. She was aware that she must have smelled; there was no soap in her bathroom, and she'd been wearing these clothes for days.

Peter held her and laughed into her hair, "Now, now, Kelly, I think you should calm down a little. You don't want your face to wrinkle because you've cried so much."

Kelly was quiet, pulling away from him, hiding under her curtain of hair.

"What do you want from me?" she asked again.

Peter contemplated his next thought and stood, offering her his hand. She took it hesitantly, wiping her eyes with the other hand.

He started to lead her from the room. Her legs were shaking, and she nearly fell. Peter waited for her to right herself, then pulled her flush against him.

"Everything," he whispered.

And Kelly nearly died at that, her heart fluttering in acute fear of this _boy_, this deadly child who was keeping her prisoner.

Kelly didn't want to pull away. She was so cold and he was warm. So she allowed the embrace, and then whispered, "I don't know what you mean."

Peter's eyes glinted as he let go of her. He started leading her to the door, "But you will. Soon."

His face lit up, "Now, how about a tour?"

* * *

"...and this is our lounge. Last stop. You'll like it here. All the boys come here to _play_," Peter said, and the way he said "play" made Kelly's skin crawl.

Kelly was terrified. She clutched at Peter as if he were her lifeline, trailing behind him like a lost puppy. She hated that she had to rely on him, but these other boys...

...they were scary.

Felix was there, burying his face into some girl's neck. It was nothing Kelly hadn't seen before-Michael and Monica were always particularly touchy. But this act wasn't cute. It was angry, violent, and Kelly shrunk away from him.

"That's Tinkerbell, that's Felix, who you know," Peter said, and they ignored Kelly, continuing their maddening attack on each other's flesh.

Kelly nodded absently, and eyed all the guns on the tables.

There was Henry, the little boy, learning how to load one.

Kelly looked away, sick.

Peter's chuckle brought her back. "You look so lost. I think you'll be called the Lost Girl from now on," he grinned.

Kelly tried to shrink away from him, but he held on tight.

Peter nudged Tinkerbell's leg, "Tink!"

She looked up lazily from Felix, "Yes?" she asked, breathlessly.

"I didn't ask you hear so you and Felix could make a baby," he laughed. "Where are the clothes? For Kelly?"

Kelly's heart sank. If he was buying her clothes, that meant that he expected her to be there for a while. Not to keep her a week or two, but to keep her a long time, long enough that she'd need different clothes.

Tinkerbell smiled and looked Kelly up and down.

"I'll put them in her room."

Peter grinned, "Excelent." He turned to Kelly, "Sorry, Kells. We're gonna have to go try on your clothes now."

Kelly started to have trouble breathing.

* * *

**A/N: Uh oh! Peter's gonna make her try on the clothes he got for her. He wants her to see that he owns her. EXCITING!**

**So I would really love some feedback! I'm going away for the weekend, so I'll try to update tomorrow!**

**REVIEW, PLEASE! And suggestions are welcome too!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm really starting to hate Google Chrome. I had this chapter all written out and then it shut down and I lost all my work. So this chapter might not be as good as my original.**

**I'll try though.**

* * *

Kelly wasn't sure what she was expecting.

This, however, was not it.

Spread out on her bed were jeans, turtlenecks, t-shirts and two dresses. They looked like what she would normally wear. One even had a picture of her favorite band on it. And the dresses were pretty too. One was a yellow sundress, nothing she would normally wear, but bright and cute (still, a bit too bright and cute for Kelly. And short.). The other dress was a little...dressier. Something a girl would wear to a fancy dinner party, not as a captive for a deranged Peter Pan.

Peter was rubbing her shoulders, "You like them?" Up, down, up, down. Kelly was scared every time that he would move his hand lower, and she wanted to run away from him. He still scared her, no matter how he thought she depended on him.

It was more of a statement and less of a question, but Kelly nodded. She did, actually. But she wanted her clothes, not some jeans and t-shirts that Peter had given her.

"And the dresses?" he asked, his hand dropping to her waist. Kelly nodded again, but felt his hand tighten. He wanted a verbal answer.

"They're very pretty," She whispered.

Peter moved quickly, and pulled her to him, back to chest, his arms wrapping around her middle and shoulders. Kelly jerked, but couldn't move much. She squirmed, trying to get him away.

He smelled her hair, then moved his hand to it, freeing her shoulders. The he breathed in her ear, "Try them on."

He let go of Kelly so quickly that she had to grab the bed for balance. On shaky legs, she made her way around the bed and to the clothes. She picked up the turtleneck sweater, which worried her. It was still September. If he was giving her a turtleneck, it meant he wanted her to be here when it was getting cold outside. She inspected the sweater. Purple, dark enough that she would have, in school, been able to disappear with it on.

She always liked to disappear.

She glanced at Peter, "Can you please leave the room? I'm going to change now."

He just kept grinning. And then shook his head.

Kelly felt her eyebrows furrow in confusion. Then horror.

"No! You can't stay here! You c-can't w-w-watch me change!" Kelly whimpered. She threw the shirt on the bed and backed away a foot. No one could watch her there. That was private. No one was allowed to-

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Telling me what to do, Kells?"

Kelly felt panic rising, "Y-you've already k-k-kidnapped me! You've let your b-boys b-b-beat me! And you've been putting your _hands_ on me all day! You can't! I won't!"

She backed up into the corner of the room. Her back hit the wall, and Kelly whimpered.

Peter looked at her for a moment, bewildered.

Then a dangerous glint came into his eyes.

"You _can't?" _he scoffed as he slowly stalked towards her. She felt her knees weaken and she collapsed against the wall. She looked as if she was trying to wish away the wall so she had somewhere to run.

"You _won't_?" he whispered menacingly. Kelly whimpered, closing her eyes for a moment in fear.

Then he was in front of her, and she was fighting, scratching his hands away from her, kicking, screaming on the top of her lungs for help.

Kelly heard the slap before she felt it on her face. Only when she was sucking air from the floor, gasping for breath, did she feel it hurting her, another bruise on her...

...and there was Peter, picking her up and holding her against him, her legs barely holding her up, and he was wiping her tears away...

...and Kelly let him, too weak, she realized, to fight him. If he wanted something, she lacked the strength to stop him.

"You need to listen," Peter warned, kissing her bruise, then repeating it softer. "You need to listen, Kells."

Kelly nodded into his shoulder, her arms gripping his shirt in an effort to keep from falling.

He kissed her cheek again, harder, and then harder, as if he wanted her to feel it.

"Kelly..." he warned between his kisses, "When I tell you something, you need to listen, all right? I don't want to hurt you again. I'll look away, but I'm staying in the room, okay?"

Kelly was terrified again, wanting him away from her. "Okay," she said, and pulled away from him.

She limped to the bed. Her legs still weren't working properly. Then she picked up a shirt.

* * *

True to his word, Peter didn't look as Kelly tried on the clothes. He turned when she had an outfit on, and then looked away when she picked up another article of clothing.

Finally, she tried on the sundress.

He looked her over appreciatively. "Spin for me," he said, and Kelly blinked for a moment, and then spun.

She stopped, and he shook his head. He stood. "Like this," he breathed, and took her hand. He spun her around once, twice, and then pulled her to him.

They were dancing before she knew it.

He placed her arms on his shoulders, and moved around with her. There was no music, but Kelly knew he didn't care.

Finally, he stepped away. "I like this dress. Try on the other one."

Kelly nodded, pulling her hair into her face. Keeping her back to him, she shimmied out of the dress and into the other, a green one that looked too nice for her to wear. As she pulled it over her shoulders, she winced in pain.

Her bruises from the other day were hurting. She couldn't zip up the dress.

She turned to Peter, hoping to pretend she was done changing, but there he was, still looking. Kelly felt panic rise again, realizing that he was watching her change.

He moved, not saying a word, just held out his hand. She took it, and he guided her to sit on the bed. He sat behind her, and slowly, slowly, zipped the dress up, his hands leaving fire on her back.

"Spin for me," he said again, his voice quieter.

Kelly didn't understand why he was looking at her like that, the glint in his eyes gone. He was the most serious she'd ever seen yet.

She stood, spun slowly, and came to a stop.

He motioned for her to sit again. She did, and he unzipped her dress.

Then he swept her hair off her shoulders and kissed her neck.

Kelly shivered, suddenly cold. And then she froze.

* * *

He kissed her neck, then the curve of her shoulder. Kelly started breathing hard in panic.

"Stop," she whispered. "Stop."

He didn't.

She was under him now, and she was crying softly. Shuddering, and trying to push him off without getting him mad. And then he kissed her.

The worst part was that this was her first kiss. Her first kiss with a psychopath.

Sweet sixteen and never been kissed. Not anymore.

And he was going to do so much more unless she stopped him. So she allowed the kiss, but pushed him away.

"Stop, please." She whispered, her voice hoarse.

He pushed her arms away until she whispered his name.

"Peter. Please."

He looked at her. He swore and rolled off her and walked from the room.

She sighed in relief and stared at the ceiling before taking off the dress and putting her own clothes back on.

* * *

**I really hope you guys liked this chapter, seeing as I had to write it TWICE! Ugh. But still, enjoy.**

**Reviews, please!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! Sorry it took so long to upload. I was really busy. But I loved all the reviews! **

**And, due to a complaint in a review, I'm going to give you guys an answer...Peter wasn't trying to rape Kelly. He honestly thought, in his twisted mind, that she wanted to do what he wanted. So when he was "forcing" himself, he stopped when he saw she didn't want it.**

**I'm glad people like my version of Peter though!**

* * *

Kelly was so terrified that her whole body was shaking for at least an hour. She waited for Peter to come back, to face his anger, but he didn't.

And that worried her more.

He was only keeping her alive because he liked her. Wasn't that it? So she needed to do what he wanted for him to keep her alive. Kelly needed to leave, to get out.

But she couldn't unless Peter let her.

He didn't come. And after a few hours, Kelly's fear multiplied. She got up and changed her clothes again, to the ones he'd gotten her, so that if he did show, he would be happy that she was wearing what he got her, right? Kelly was suddenly stricken with the need to please him, to make him see how sorry she was, that her hands shook when she was buttoning up her jeans.

She curled up in the bed, still shaking. Why was she so upset? Why did she feel like she was the one that needed to apologize? He was going to hurt her! She was protecting herself.

Still, Kelly closed her eyes and before drifting to sleep, saw once again the horror in Peter's eyes as he saw what he was about to do.

* * *

Felix stood in front of Peter. Peter was pacing, his hair wild as his eyes, and Felix wasn't quite sure what to do.

"Pan? You called me?"

Peter spun around. "Yes..." his voice trailed away.

He glanced at the newspaper he was wringing in his hands. It was a few days old. But he grinned suddenly, his dark, dangerous grin.

"Get me scissors, Felix."

Felix was back in two minutes, and watched as Peter clipped away at the paper. He then handed two small clippings to Felix.

"Give this to Kelly with her breakfast, please."

Felix's eyes scanned the paper. His eyes widened, distorting his scar.

"Y-you're sure? This could just upset her more."

Peter glared at Felix. "Do you believe in me?"

Felix felt confusion take over his features.

Peter breathed out menacingly.

"Do. You. Believe. In. Me."

Felix nodded, no hesitation, "Of course, Pan."

Peter searched Felix's eyes, and then nodded.

"Then listen to me from now on."

* * *

Kelly was alert when Felix came in with breakfast. She had slept well, but tossed and turned so much the sheets almost choked her. When he came in, though, she was dressed and the bed was already made.

Felix stared at her before coming over with her tray of food. It was eggs and juice, and there was a paper sticking out from underneath.

Kelly waited until Felix backed away, watching him warily from under her hair.

She picked up the paper first, and read aloud, voice too quiet for Felix to hear.

"Kelly Jessup ran away from home two days ago. She is sixteen, caucasian, with dark brown hair and eyes. She is a deeply disturbed young girl and may be dangerous to herself. If seen, please contact Mary and Kevin Jessup, or the local police."

The rest of the article was cut off, but Kelly could see the top of her school photo from sophomore year poking out at her.

"B-but I didn't run-" Kelly's voice cracked, and she swallowed, "I didn't run away."

Felix looked up at her lazily. "Yes, you did."

Kelly's face shot up and she glared at him, and stammered, "A-and how d-do you see that?"

Felix grinned like a lion, "Because it wasn't suspicious. The door was unlocked. No sign of struggle. No one was home. Some of your clothes were...missing," Felix scratched his nose, "I had fun burning them. I did it three days ago."

Kelly had no words.

"And, lets see. You're 'deeply disturbed'. Both of your best friends died within a year of each other. You're depressed. Suicidal, maybe? And your poor parents? They've managed to ignore you for the last year. No one will look for you too hard."

Kelly wouldn't let Felix see her cry. She wouldn't. So she stared at him from under her hair until he left.

* * *

When he finally did come, it was the middle of the night.

Kelly actually wasn't sure what time it was. She assumed, of course, based on the amount of meals she was given. She'd been so bored all day. She'd plaited her hair in braids, then undid them, then rebraided it all again. She'd folded, refolded, unfolded and retried all the clothes Peter had given her. She'd examined her bruises in minute detail, especially the one he gave her on her face. And when all of that was done she counted the cracks on the ceiling.

She was going insane.

So, Kelly didn't really know what time it was. She just went to sleep right after her dinner. And she washed the plate. Because at least she was able to do that.

The news clipping had upset her tremendously. So had Felix's comments afterwards. She'd felt angry, real anger, for the first time in a long time, the only emotion other than despair and helplessness since Michael had died. And she didn't even let herself cry about it.

_I've shed too many tears here._ Kelly wasn't about to let herself cry any more than she needed to.

To tell the truth, she felt cried out.

She was sleeping deeply when he came in and stared at her. His hand stroked her hair, and it was so soft that she woke up without fear.

Peter whispered, "Kelly? Are you awake?"

She nodded.

He got up and Kelly heard him move around. In a moment, the light blinded her, and she shielded her eyes with a cry.

Peter rushed to her. "Shh, Kells. I'm right here."

"I know..." she whispered drowsily, "It's bright."

She sounded so childlike for a moment, in her sleepy state, that Peter leaned in and kissed her forehead.

Kelly opened her eyes, and stared up at Peter.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She just looked at him.

Finally, she closed her eyes and nodded.

* * *

The next words didn't surprise Peter.

"You hurt me," Kelly said plainly.

He could see the bruise on her face. He tilted her head up and kissed it. "I'm sorry for that too. I thought you were going into shock."

She looked at him, her brown eyes pleading. "Please, Peter. Let me go."

He shook his head.

She pushed his hand away.

"Then please don't t-touch me," Kelly stuttered, and turned away from him.

"Kells," Peter said, and shifted her so she faced him again. "I won't hurt you again. I lost control yesterday."

She laughed once, mirthlessly.

Then she was quiet, "I want to go home, Peter. I want my mother."

"No you don't," he whispered into her ear and she shivered. She was on her back, and he leaned over her. He said it with such confidence that Kelly believed him. Believed in him. Her mother didn't want her, did she?

But Peter did...

Peter met her eyes. "Your mother doesn't want you," he said, as if reading her mind. "She doesn't love you any more. Not since you hurt yourself. You're not the same. She's not, either. I want you, Kelly. I want your everything. And you want it too."

She didn't...

But then he kissed her softly on the mouth and curled up next to her under the blanket, and Kelly fell asleep feeling like she wanted it more than anything too.

* * *

**So here comes the screwed up Stockholm Syndrome I was talking about! Please review! And suggestions are always appreciated, if not listened to.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! I'm probably going to update about twice or three times a week. I finally got my laptop back so it'll be more often. I'm glad so many people like the story though!**

**Mikki19 wrote:**

I have to say that this story has my complete attention right now!  
I just... LOVE it :) Pan is just steadily stealing my heart haha  
I'd love to see some kind of mental break within Kelly, perhaps she finally lashes out after everything that she's had to endure...? I'm interested to see how Pan would take that :)

**So I will just say: Kelly will have some sort of breakdown, but it's not gonna be what you expect.**

**BTWs this is a calm(er) chapter.**

* * *

When Kelly woke up the next day, Peter was watching her.

He hadn't touched her inappropriately during the night, or anything like that. He was just looking at her intently, enough to make her skin burn with the weight of his eyes on her. His green eyes were staring at her, and latched immediately on her dark brown ones when she opened them.

Kelly wasn't sure how long the silence between them stretched out, until finally he broke it with a smirk and said, "Good morning, Kells."

Kelly opened her mouth and whispered back, "Good morning, Peter."

Her voice was small.

He sat up swiftly, and pulled half the cover with him. Kelly caught her breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Then she felt his hand on her face.

"Sh," he whispered when she whimpered out loud. "I just wanna see your bruise."

He tilted her face and studied it in the half-light. "It's fading."

"Great," she whispered, almost sarcastic. Almost.

He leaned down and before Kelly could take a breath he was touching her nose with his.

Softly, slowly, he kissed her.

Kelly stiffened. She didn't know this boy. Why was he kissing her, again? What did he want? Why did he-

-but then she was floating, and even though they were barely touching, Kelly could feel him, almost there, just an inch away from her skin.

She'd never really kissed anyone back before. But now she wanted to.

Instead she turned her head away, turning from him and away from his kiss.

"I-I can't, P-peter."

She was _stuttering_ again, and it was all his fault, _damn_ him. Kelly looked away as he climbed out of bed with jerky, angry movements.

Suddenly, she didn't want him mad at her. She almost went mad yesterday, and she knew she would go insane all alone in the room, bored out of her mind.

"No," she whispered scampering out of the blankets to grab his wrist before he left the room. "Peter. I just meant I can't..."

He turned to her, and she trailed away.

"...I just don't know how..." she finished lamely, lost in his eyes again.

Peter raised an eyebrow, his anger melting slowly.

"Don't know how to...what? Kiss?"

Kelly, suddenly terrified, started to edge back to the bed, then stopped. That was even more dangerous territory.

Peter's eyes were glinting.

"Kells! Oh, Kelly." Peter was grinning at her and she felt sick, but also...happy? That he was pleased?

Kelly glanced up at Peter. Her hair swayed, a long curtain, in front of her face.

"I-I just-that wasn't-I didn't mean..."

Peter cut her off by stepping closer. She backed away, until her back hit one of the canopy's wooden poles.

He put both hands on either side of her head, framing her face, and dipped down.

The kiss was sweet, unlike the hungry ones from before. Kelly was stunned for a moment, until Peter deepened it and she was gone. The weightless sensation was back and she was flying in the stars.

Her knees were weak, and she felt Peter grab her elbows to steady her. Still, that wasn't enough and Peter laid her back on the bed.

She couldn't think. She wasn't awake. She'd never felt so alive.

How could such a demon make her feel so good?

She was insane.

That was the only plausible answer.

* * *

When they were done with their "lesson" Peter propped himself up on one elbow and studied her.

"You're looking better. More color, too."

Kelly just kept staring at the ceiling.

She felt dirty. They hadn't done anything inappropriate...well, other than kissing, so she knew that she wasn't a bad girl, like Monica's sister Rachelle. But still. She'd let him touch her again.

Kiss her.

Willingly.

Kelly wanted to scrub her mouth and her cheeks until Peter Pan rubbed off of her and down the drain. But he was still there. And he was still making her stomach flip.

Waiting for a reply that wasn't going to come, Peter grinned and kissed her hungrily, then sat up for the second time that morning. He started to leave again.

"Peter."

Kelly's voice was soft, injured, and just quiet enough that he almost didn't hear it.

He turned.

She was just so..._devastated._ Like a tragic heroine, sitting up in the bed, hair tangled from his fingers and eyes wide, lips slightly open. Peter almost went back to the bed.

But he waited, a smirk set on his mouth.

"C-could I...?" She coughed, "Could you maybe, I don't know, give me something to do? Or something to keep me occupied?"

Peter just stared at her.

She took his silence as a prompt to keep talking.

"B-because...I think-I think I might be going insane in here."

Peter watched her face. She was scared, he thought.

He grinned. Scared was good.

"Of course," he said. "I'll bring something over in an hour. Is a book okay?"

Kelly nodded, her eyes animating a tiny bit.

Peter closed the door behind him, locked it, and walked away.

* * *

**So? Review, please!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Wow! Over fifty reviews! Guys, this is amazing. I'm so happy so many people enjoy this fanfic!**

**Kelly is breaking down her barriers...trusting Peter more. Stockholm Syndrome. Just FYI.**

* * *

Kelly heard the lock in the door and straightened up. She patted her dress back into place over her knees so Peter wouldn't get too many ideas. She was wearing the sundress. He liked it, after all.

And Kelly enjoyed being with him so much more when he was happy.

When Peter entered, his eyes had that dangerous twinkle in them again, but he was angry, Kelly noticed.

"What's wrong?" She asked fearfully, clutching the book she was reading to her chest.

Peter didn't answer, but came over to her and took the book out of her hands. She stood at his urging, heart thumping in alarm.

When he kissed her, Kelly felt his aggression in it. He was rough, gripping her shoulders, tightly enough that she whimpered. Her hair fell back off her shoulders and streamed behind her, and Peter growled, knotting his fingers in her hair and pulling her head back.

Finally, Peter stopped and took a step back, breathing hard.

Kelly sat back down. This was the part where she tried to stay out of his way, she realized. Peter Pan could take a world apart in his anger. Best to let him ride it out.

In the one week since she let him first kiss her, Kelly was amazed how well she was starting to understand this boy. His anger. His mood swings. How gentle he could be when he wanted.

How rough and dangerous.

She hadn't given him what he wanted from her. Not even when he pulled at her clothes, in the heat of the room. Everything was heated with him. He was like fire. Kelly hated him for that. She loved him for that.

She wanted to watch the flame. But she was afraid to get too close to it.

She knew she was finally crazy, though, when she felt his pain with him, and cried when he came back bruised and bloody two nights before.

Peter had been upset that night, but came to visit anyways. When Kelly saw his state, she deteriorated into tears pretty quickly. Peter's anger had fizzled into amusement. She cared, and she was crazy for caring for this boy that wanted her in a way she couldn't bear to think about. Kelly didn't want to care. But she did.

It was because he was there for her. No one else, except Felix, visited her. No one. Not even that Henry boy. Peter had explained Henry to Kelly. They'd held him for ransom a year before. His mother was the mayor. Some big politician. While they held him, Henry realized that he liked being a Lost Boy far too much to leave. So they returned Henry to his mother, but Henry's heart-well, it had stayed with Peter Pan and his boys. Henry had been turned.

Kelly wasn't going to let that happen to her.

"What happened, Peter?" Kelly whispered after he was done pacing. Her voice was hoarse from the kissing, a little breathless as she watched him turn to her. Her dark hair was knotted and framed her face and shoulders, a mess all the way down to her waist. It had been carefully brushed a minute ago. The sundress looked vibrant against her skin, but to Peter she looked like a doll. Still, not moving, skin like porcelain.

So delicate.

So fragile.

"Someone is looking for you," Peter said. He watched her face for a reaction. She didn't give him one.

"Who's Killian, Kelly?"

Kelly raised her eyebrows. She'd tried, in the mirror, to raise just one like Peter could, but wasn't able to, so she settled for both.

"Killian Jones?" Kelly asked, and Peter's nostrils flared.

"Why? How many other _Killian_s do you know?" Peter was pacing again.

Kelly stared at Peter, her big eyes wide.

"He's my cousin...Peter, oh, please don't hurt Killian. If he's looking for me, just don't hurt him!"

"If he is looking for you I'll kill him," Peter said darkly. "No one's taking you from me."

Kelly suddenly cried out, and dropped to her knees at Peter's feet, "Peter, don't!" He stared at her impassively. "Peter, I don't-he's the only family I've ever been close to. I love him. Don't hurt him, please. Please!"

Peter looked down at her, the girl he had gone to such pains to get. He wasn't letting some idiot cousin get her now that Peter had her.

"He's a lieutenant in the navy," Kelly tried, "He serves his country. He doesn't do anything bad. Just let him go. I'll do whatever you ask. Please, Peter. For me."

She _loved_ this cousin? Peter looked down at her, on the floor, begging him.

"I wont hurt him."

Kelly's chest lightened. She breathed out in relief and jumped up, throwing her arms around Peter.

Peter grinned darkly into her hair. She'd do _anything. Whatever he asked,_ if he let Killian go.

Peter pulled her to the bed and kissed her again.

* * *

Kelly was so relieved that she wasn't responsible for the death of her cousin that she let Peter lead her to the bed, even though she'd wanted to put it off for a bit.

He was possessive, rough with her, but Kelly let it go. He was letting Killian live after all...

...and then all thoughts of anyone other than Peter Pan were gone, and Kelly was swept up into him, feeling him, touching him, and tasting his lips on her, his smell, all senses tuned onto him.

She couldn't feel where she started and he ended.

When Peter lifted her dress, she was so caught up in him that she let it happen, and clutched the sheets as she cried out, not sure if it was pain or something else he was making her feel, but knowing she couldn't stop, wouldn't be able to, not in this state of fusion with this boy above her.

He was there, suddenly, and he wasn't gentle. But Kelly didn't pay attention to that. She couldn't think. She was unraveling...

...and the only thing keeping her together was him, even as he took her apart.

Although she felt alive, Kelly knew that she died that day too.

* * *

**Please review! I really want to know your reactions.**

**THANK YOU!**


End file.
